


Parenting books can't possibly prepare you for this shit (Alternatively, Detroit: Become Daddy)

by tinypaperlamp



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Crack? Crack., Development, Development heavy, Drug Mentions, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gavin Reed-centric, Gavin is a parent, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Swearing, homicide mentions, relationship heavy, single dad, some case work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-01-07 00:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18399725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypaperlamp/pseuds/tinypaperlamp
Summary: That one time that never actually happened where Gavin saved a young kid from a burning building and adopted them.ORGavin starts to realise being an asshole is going to rob him of happiness forever. And he has to make a decision now.





	1. Red ice and embers

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for even attempting to read this! This is my second work posted on this site, but the only one I intend to keep up for now. 
> 
> This is my first true work. And it's honestly just self-indulgent work, but I hope that you, whoever you are, dear reader, can enjoy this too. 
> 
> The inspiration for this work comes from an unhappy place: I am a problematic person, and I see so much of myself in Gavin Reed, and I hate it. I hate that I can only see myself in a person who was created to be just a villain in a game I adore so much. So, out of love for him and an attempt at love for myself, I'm giving him a redemption arc and a shot at not being such a villain. 
> 
> In writing this, I hope to find some truth about Gavin Reed, and some truth about myself.
> 
> edit: Hi all! I want to start doing commisions. Check out my tumblr for more details! tumblr: tinypaperlamp.tumblr.com
> 
> ps, this will be uploaded in segments and then added to one big long chapter. can i get a wahoo

Gavin Reed was not a father type. Not at all. He was the last possible person that you should go to about child care. So no way in a million, no, a billion years on this fucking planet did he ever believe that he had what it took to become a father figure. A man in someone’s life. 

And then suddenly, all his friends started fucking popping out kids. And goddamn if he wasn’t annoyed with having to go to baby showers and pretend to be happy for his friends who signed away their next 18 years at least to some snot eating shit for brains kid. 

Chris started a family. And he had never been happier. Gavin texted him back after getting the news, calling him a traitor to the bachelor lifestyle. He and his wife were expecting twins - fucking twins! She was already the size of the fucking moon and she was only six months along. 

Then Tina and her wife’s kid came along. She started doing stupid romance movie shit. Changed all her ways. She even started making those stupid fucking bento boxes for her wife when she went to work.   
  
Hers never looked as good as they did in the pictures she made them after, but her wife still ate that shit up. Not that he was bitter and jealous of the fact that his friends were finding people that actually wanted to be with them, or anything. ‘Cause he wasn’t. He wasn’t pissed about the fact that no one liked him, or that everyone (well, most people) pity invited him to parties and weddings. He wasn’t one to notice how the bullpen was always quiet when he came in and went to get a coffee, or how when he was in the kitchen he could hear chatter and laughter. 

Nah. Gavin Reed wasn’t a bitter bitch like that. That’s what he told himself when tears threatened to give him away like the little bitch he was at night, when all he had was a blanket and a cat so fucking stupid if he didn’t wipe its ass it would smear shit all over itself.

Except he was.

The concept alone of parenting scared him. Having to give away your right to be an independent human being to raise some wailing snot bucket. Not having the freedom to be his, albeit, responsibly irresponsible self. Not being able to go out drinking and being able to crash at someone else’s home. Not being able to do anything that he wanted. Having to protect and cherish someone. Having to put in the effort of nourishing and raising someone. He didn’t know how to do that shit. Fuck, Gavin pretty much raised himself as a street kid, and look where that got him.

DPD Central’s most hated, loud-mouthed, whiniest, bitchiest detective. 

That got Gavin shitting his pants. He swore up and down to himself that he would never become a parent. He couldn't risk passing on his “garbage human traits” to someone else and fucking them up forever, too.

But life has a funny way of saying 'fuck you', sometimes.

Finding himself holding a little girl in his arms, and protecting her from hell and high water during a case was one of those ways.

He was responsible for her life at that moment. It was protection. Primal. He couldn’t let himself die because he had to get her out of here. He had to or he'd fucking die trying.

Fowler had sent the ‘dream team’ (consisting of Hank, Connor and Gavin) to a breaking and entering. Fowler told them it was open and closed, but with possible red ice involvement and illegal android trafficking. Hence the walking talking Siri copycat.

The B&E  to a family home in a suburban neighbourhood. The family wasn’t waiting for them outside, shaking and crying. And there was no noise. It set them on edge, skin crawling as adrenaline kicked in. Something was amiss. Nothing was adding up. If it were only a robbery, the scene would be different.

He looked at Anderson. He felt it too.

A silent B&E? It was possible, but there are kids. The 911 came in as the robbers having already left the house, leaving the family intact. But this isn’t right. The family should be out here, waiting, unable to go back in the house after feeling so violated.

Right now, it was more characteristic of a hostage situation. And if there was no one on the phone with them negotiating, then they'd have to call forensics and, well, Gavin wouldn’t be fucking sleeping for a week, especially with kids involved. That’s all there is to say about that.

So Gavin Reed, understanding the danger, and the need for calculated decisions, shut his fucking mouth for once and deferred to Anderson, who directed him around the back, and Connor to the side of the house. They all reached for their guns, save for the android, ever the negotiator. 

They crept in silently, Gavin opening the back door slowly, gun to the ground, only raising it when he confirmed no one to be there. He poked his head inside, and looked around, clearing the hallway from the back. To his right were a set of stairs. He flipped the hallway light on, getting a good look down the stairs. The house was clean enough, if a little too bare. The stairway was empty, which was a good sign. No one ready to wield a knife and stab his fucking eyes out.

“I found a basement, I’m going to check it out,” the detective whispered through a walkie.

Hank grunted his assent from the other side of the hall, obviously focussed on Connor. He put his gun back at his hip, and waiting for the call to forensics. 

“I need forensics to catalogue a scene, Willis street east. You’ll see us. We’ll be outside.” Annnd bingo. Gavin wouldn’t be sleeping for a week at least. He never liked to admit that the murder got to him, but it did. He wouldn’t be able to call himself human if it didn’t. 

He turned his attention away from the bile rising in his throat, swallowing it back on instinct. The detective took a steadying breath, bringing his weapon back up in a defensive motion. He listening to the sound of scene analysis as he climbed down the stairs, slowly enough to try and stop the stairs from creaking. He cursed the louder ones out in his head. It was like they were trying to rat him out, “junkies beware! The popo is here and ready to grab your ass and haul ya’ to jail”, and what Gavin didn’t fucking need right now was a tweaker high on something having an advantage over him.

Sweating, teeth clenched together, he wished he’d left his jacket in the car. It’s too fucking hot in the house. Who keeps their house this hot? No one sane. It must just be him. But he’s never gotten this nervous before. Never. It sent another thrill of caution through his body. 

Something was terribly horribly wrong here. Something worse than a standard robbery. I mean sure, there probably was one, but it wasn’t the only crime committed here today. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped down from the wooden stairs, reached out to the metal door handle. It burned, bad. He hissed and ripped his hand away, looking at his palm, checking to see if his flesh was still there.

He put his ear to the door… sobbing? And heat. What the hell was with the heat? He pulled open the door and instantly felt like melting. Disgusting heat washed over him like a tsunami, drowning him before he could catch his break to go under the fucking water. And the smell - holy fuck, the smell. A red ice lab. He was getting high from the fucking fumes.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he bellowed up the stairs, warning the two others to get out. He turned to leave, shouting to the presence of fire. Fire. Everywhere, starting to tear the house to its base again. And then came the sobbing louder.

He was caught for a split second, before making a decision that really, he didn’t even have to make. He dashed in the room, shielding himself from the starving flames, and found the source. A girl. A little one. Hiding. She screamed. Ran to him. He covered her in his jacket and ran. Up the stairs. Connor and Hank were at the top.

By the time he made it a quarter up the way of those damn stairs - those creaking fucking stairs, the inferno had started licking at the bottom of the bare wood. He tripped forwards, shoving the screaming girl at Connor. A few bumps and bruises gotten now was better than suffocating to death in a burning death trap made from wood and covered in wallpaper.

“Take her! Go! Get out and call EMS and fire -’ The weak step gave way to Gavin’s arguably not so much weight. He went down harder than he would have liked to admit. He felt his ankle twist uncomfortably. When he looked later, he would describe it as disgusting.

What he didn’t expect was Hank Anderson, in all his six foot something glory, to reach down, and lend his hand to rip his shoulder from his socket.

“Reed! Take it! We gotta go!” Gavin scrambled up the cement wall, melting boots giving him a way to stick and climb up the wall. Hank pulled him out under his arm, house going up faster than a haystack on an August afternoon in Texas.

Saying the detective limped to the front of the house was an overstatement. It was mostly Hank carrying him there, grunting and groaning.

“Jesus Reed, could you at least fucking try to walk?”

“I tried to walk up those fucking stairs, and look where that fucking got me, dickhead,” he wheezed, lungs burning for cleaner air.

He was coughing to hell, and his skin felt charred and crisp from where the fire tried to consume him first. His feet were tender and covered with semi liquid semi solid rubber, which he scraped off on the curb, then threw away the fabric of his shoes.

He sat on the boulevard across the street, where Connor and the little girl were. He reached into the coat pocket that he was suddenly glad he’d been wearing, and light up a cigarette, crashing on the curb.

He started taking stock of what had been burned, and what was likely to hurt the next day. His ankle looked nasty. It certainly wasn’t broken, at least, it didn’t look broken, but that bitch would hurt for a while. His shirt had… pretty much been eaten away, but hey, the bright side was that he didn’t need a haircut now that everything had been singed down. He had some cuts and bruises over his body. Despite everything, he came out largely alright. He would live. And he could still thrive. Thank God.

He flopped back, upper half landing on the cool concrete below him. He felt a weight being settled on his chest, puffing away like a chimney. A screaming weight, clawing and clinging on to what was left of his chest hair and white shirt. His hand came over the mess, cradling it tight. He wouldn’t let go of her.

He mumbled through a burning gasper, "Why'd you put her on me?" No one answered.

Reed could hear Connor and Anderson chatting, but he didn’t give a shit. The wail of sirens got closer, but it was too fucking late. The house and any evidence they might have gotten, except for what was saved in the android’s cranium (?) memory stick (??) thing (???).

He threw aside the pitiful ember of his cigarette, having finished pumping the cancer through his system. Who cared about what one nail in the coffin would do when he just lost ten years of his life, running into that fire?

Stiffly, the detective peeled himself from the cool grass and cement to sit up, and cradle the little thing in his jacket, making sure she couldn’t see the fire ripping over what was left of her life and her home. A loud booming crack of the supports told them that it was already gone, consumed by flames and weakened so badly it fell in on itself. A true viking’s funeral. He gave an ironic salute.

Hank came closer, to try and take the girl from Gavin, recognizing the foreignness of Gavin fucking Reed taking care of a child. Connor voiced it first. 

“Detective Reed, I can hold her. It is probable that she has suffered from trauma and needs comfort.” And Gavin couldn't provide that? Fucking puppet. Androids didn’t know how to love. It startled them when he snarled a biting remark. 

“You think I can't comfort a kid, tin can? No thanks, prick, I can handle just fine.” How fucking dare he insinuate he couldn't even hold a kid for ten minutes.

“I’ll give you a break. She must be heavy, and I won’t get tired. My scans indicate that your adrenaline levels are dropping quite rapidly.” he smiled, trying to be helpful. But there was some concern in his eyes. Something Gain didn't like. Another implication that he wasn't man enough to handle the job. But... Gavin considered taking help from the glorified Macbook. She was fuckin' heavy, and the detective was tired. The crease that had grown between his brows softened for a split second.

He listened to what his body was screaming at him. Exhaustion. Pain. He huffed. Reed handed her over, awkward and sore, and gasping for another cigarette. The adrenaline keeping him going was leaking from the bottom of his feet like he had been cracked open somewhere he couldn’t see. 

She started screaming and begging for him the moment she knew she was being handed over. Connor tried to calm her, but it wouldn’t work. Eventually, Hank had a try, grousing that he knew just the trick to get her to stop crying. Over his shoulder, reaching for Gavin, she started gurgling through her screams. Gavin had honestly been glad to stop holding her now that she was screaming and loud and fucking annoying.

Gavin decided that all this shit was getting too fucking dramatic, at which point he took her, told everyone else to fuck off, in not so kind words.

“Jesus Christ, do you two know how to do anything? Fuck. I thought you were a parent, Lieutenant Asshole.” Hank was ready to strangle Reed where he stood, but Connor grabbed his arm, like some sort of weight to remind him to calm. 

Gavin pulled the child back into his arms, with a sour look on his face. At least she was quiet now. She chewed on her sleeved, only whining now and then, tears drying into his nasty shirt.

“I’ll be with her, having a good ass nap in the back of my shitty car.” That was the end of the discussion. Hank and Connor shared a look - one of confusion, and bewilderment.


	2. Faggot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Strong language and anti gay slurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I just needed to get something out and tried to keep writing while my house was flooding around me. 
> 
> xo

Sometime during his supreme nap, someone (specifically, a certain walking talking version of Google Assistant) knocked on his window and forced him into an ambulance with the kid.

He kept her close in the ambulance, mainly because she started shrieking every goddamn time he tried to give her to one of the paramedics or any staff at the hospital.

Now that they were in different surroundings, they smelled awful. They looked awful. Like a… red ice lab gone wrong. Which was more bang on the nose than Gavin would have liked? And would probably explain why the staff members at the hospital were more irritating than normal. He can see it now. "Clueless father comes in after exploding his red ice lab to treat child, is arrested."

As if he were that fucking stupid. But judging from the nervous glances from staff and patrons... He seemed that stupid. 

He did think that they were lucky, though. It could have gone so much worse. Any one of them could have died (and the only reason he gave a shit was so he didn't have to file paperwork, not cause he cared or anything. He had a reputation to maintain...)

Really, he isn’t sure how they managed to get out alive. And he’s not fucking sure how he’s going to get out of this hospital. He can barely make his way to the private room he was supposed to meet some doctor in without getting all turned around and going down the wrong hall. It isn't his fault they're all the fucking same!

The detective runs through the halls, annoyed and upset, clothes looking like he was volunteering as a firefighter without any equipment, with a kid covered in soot and red ice residue on his hip in the middle of a waiting room. Not exactly a good look.

  
The kid - did this kid even have a name? - started whining again, as he finally found a sign (by the grace of some non-existent god) with the room number on it and an arrow. Reed looked around for something, anything to quiet her. He gives up, and yanks badge from his hip, rubbing it off on his ruined jeans. What would a little more soot hurt? He shoved it in her hands. It seemed to do the trick.

She was traces the embossing of the badge with a little nail on a little finger. He really looks at her. Were kids even supposed to be that small? When he thinks back on it, he doesn’t think he ever felt small. It's all a little fuzzy around the edges of trauma.

He wonders if she feels small in this big hospital where really, probably two people know she exists. Maybe she’s too small to know how small she is.

After roaming alabaster halls for what seemed like centuries, he made it to the room. It felt like a victory even though there was no finish ribbon for him to break. The room was empty, save for a couple short plastic chairs at a table with crayons and colouring paper. Maybe some things are old school after all. The kid sets herself down at the table and puts his badge aside. Grabs a crayon, a paper, and starts completely colouring outside the lines.

He smiles a little. Rebel.

Gavin watched, because really, there’s nothing else to do other than start colouring himself. And that shit is for kids. He stretches out his achy body, rubbing over the sorer parts. Apart from this little table, there’s a medical stand that he could sit on, but he’s sure the kid would freak if he left a certain radius of her person, so that was out of the question. And the desk with the screen was for the doctor, so he couldn’t very well just sit there either. All he could do was be patient.  
Another lazy glance around the room and he could see pale yellow walls, with insects and animals painted everywhere. A painstaking amount of time went into making this a gender neutral room. Or, it would have been painstaking to make these considerations when he was growing up.

But now it was just habit. The more he thinks about what the world was like when he was a kid, the better he thinks of the world now. God, how attitudes change.

  
Reed watches the kid colour and he feels a sort of nostalgia. Or at least, that’s the closest thing he thinks he’s feeling. It’s some sort of fucked up mix between nostalgia, hatred, and fear. He remembers the times he came to the hospital with his brother and his dad. That is, if his brother could get his dad off the bottle long enough to drive them there. His face sours. It’s the same reaction every single time he thinks about that prick. That stupid drunk prick. That stupid dead prick. 

Gavin’s dad, as far as he was concerned, was not a dad. He was just a man who happened to own a house with two kids in it. And lucky enough for that prick, those kids were smart. Smart enough to know when he would make it through the night after an alcohol binge, and when they needed to call for help. Smart enough to know how to cook dinner and make coffee for that insufferable bastard when he was on his way out the door to work as a shitty beat cop.

Living with his dad was probably the hardest thing he’d ever done as a kid. Not even just probably… it was certainly the hardest thing he’d done. Nothing that asshole did to little Gavin was right. And if his dad hadn’t drunk himself into an early grave, he would’ve knocked his fucking block right off, that’s for sure. Even thinking about him is hard. Thinking about how his dad treated Eli, forgetting himself. Eli got lunch from the school because his dad would often spend the night drinking it away in some shithole dive. Elijah was so skinny he couldn’t even bear to eat food around him. Gavin would always give anything he had for him.

He’d always lie and say he found some money under the couch or stole it from dad or something. Anything to get him to eat. The amount of times Gavin would sneak Elijah into a hospital with a fake name just to get some food or something was unreal. It was easy getting him into the hospital. He was so skinny he was always fainting at school. Or home. Or in public. 

The nurses stopped triaging them at one point. Just ended up giving them the meals and saying see you soon. 

And the shit their dad did was torture. Aside from being outright beaten for fucking up a test, cooking dinner badly, or, anything really. His dad was not kind. Scars of cigarette burns still litter his arms like stars on a stretch of sky, only much uglier and painful. He swears he can still feel and smell the sear of his skin when his dad would grab his wrist and tell him to hold still. 

If he didn't, he was a sissy. 

Gavin brought home a boy once. Snuck him in, just to talk and watch movies. Of course, he was caught. Gavin remembers the utter horror rushing through his veins… the cold blood through his body. The fear. The terror. Nothing felt real. His whole body felt limp and lifeless. And honestly, he doesn’t even know how he made it out of that house without being shot.

Gavin the sissy.  Gavin the faggot son. Gavin the queer. Gavin the fat waste of fucking food. Gavin the trash heap. Gavin Reed the disowned. 

He remembers being kicked out and told never to come back. His dad grabbed him by his shirt collar and hauled him out backwards, throwing him on the grass lawn. He sat there for what seemed like years until the locked finally latched. He wasn't allowed back. And that was final.

He remembers walking around downtown Detroit, cold and afraid. The wind was biting, and it ripped at his skin. He had nowhere to go. Just barely made it out with his wallet with the small bits of cash he had. He sat at a bus stop, and the buses kept coming around but he never got on. He was in shock. And he was so angry. And so hateful. And so alone. And so afraid.

He felt small, too. Like her. Only existing to his brother. 

And then he never heard from his brother again. He can't say he blames him. He had to stay safe and alive, too.

Thank Christ his brother took a lesson from him, at least. Suck up to him. Make him proud. And maybe you’ll do great things and own your own business and be rich and famous one day.

 

He tries to forget about it now. Even when it crawls back in the deep dark nights when his blanket is his comfort. Or in Jimmy's when he's staring into the bottom of a bottle. Or the toilet when he can see his scarred and beaten body. Or those stretch marks from when he got fat as a kid.

He really doesn’t have the time, patience or energy to deal with it now in his adult life. And some part of him knows he's playing with fire, doing this. But like fire, it burns. 

He starts coming back to reality. And there’s a doctor trying to grab his attention and shift it to her rather than to drilling holes into the piece of paper the little girl has coloured in. It looks like some trees and a big red mass.

  
The house on fire. 

  
“Yes. Sorry,” he stands, reaching his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Gavin Reed, detective with the DCPD. I pulled this little one out of a fire today and I had to bring her to get checked out, I guess. She’s been exposed to red ice fumes and extreme heat.” He shakes the doctor’s hand, who nods and picks up the little girl.

The doctor seemed nice. Long black hair, thick waist, and warm chocolatey skin. Too bad he was gay.

“Hello, Violet. I’m Doctor Emem. You just turned six. That’s exciting.”

The doctor is met only with silence from the little girl, and Gavin is confused. No no, androids weren’t doctors. They couldn’t be. There was no way. Was there?

“Do you think of yourself as a boy or a girl, or neither, Violet?” The doctor smiled softly, taking her temperature with the palm of her hand. Her skin pulled away to reveal perfect white. Not marked up or imperfect. Crisp, bright white.

“Woah woah wait, you’re an android? No, no. Get the hell out. She needs a human doctor, alright? Someone who can sympathise with the shit she’s been through. Not some fuckin’ plastic who can just download the DSM and pretend to make a real diagnosis,” Gavin starts towards the little girl, to pick her up and get her out of the room.

“Just, fuckin’, I don’t know, get me a real doctor or some shit. She doesn’t want a supersized Siri.”

Violet can only shrink into Gavin’s hip, trying to understand.

The doctor backs away, and pages someone. She smiles politely, but strained, regardless. And she apologises, regardless.

“Detective Reed, I apologise for having upset you. Since the revolu - “

“Guess what? I don’t give a shit. Speed it up, android.”

And just like that, with a latch of a door, they’re alone again. Gavin sets her back on the bench, and wipes at her forehead, mimicking the doctor, like something is going to fall off.

“Are you alright, Violet?” Gavin… well, Gavin tries to smile. “That’s a really pretty name, you know?”

He gets the same silent treatment. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting a little. She holds up the badge, and does the same stroking motions. Well. It’s something.

After a human doctor shows up, things go far more smoothly. For Gavin. He watches her, and she seems really quiet and lost. Gavin sort of understands how she feels. She looks like what he imagines he looked like sitting at that bus stop. He can finally take her home after she’s been cleared and of course, a fuss about having a needle. He sits in his car, with her buckled in the back seat. His hands are on the steering wheel but suddenly…

He doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t really have a plan for after this. He can do this. He’s an adult. And that means taking care of your basic needs, probably.

“Are you hungry?” He gets a little nod from her.

“Alright. Cool. So… what do you like to eat?” He looks at her in the mirror, and she just shrugs, playing with his badge still.

“Awesome.” He shifts his car into gear, and drives off from the hospital. It’s a long ride of Gavin trying to get something out of her. Anything. He knows she’s six. And that her name is Violet. He didn’t get her last name. Maybe he should have waited a goddamn second before going off. Fuck, he hated androids, but damn could they be useful. Fucking androids.

If he had to admit it, which he didn’t, so good fucking luck getting him to, it wasn’t even that androids weren’t cool or awesome. ‘Cause they are. Technology, bitch! But they scared the shit outta him because they were so much better and could take everything from him if they wanted to.

Gavin is not a courageous man. In fact, most of his decisions are stupid and last minute. He overrides himself to make his body do what needs to be done.

It’s the only reason that he ran into that fire to save her. Pure, dumb stupidity.

Well. Maybe not the only reason.

Maybe there's a good man somewhere in there. Maybe. 

 


	3. Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gavin is hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do people like shorter or longer chapters? 
> 
> Please let me know! 
> 
> Thanks for all the well wishes and kind comments. Makes my life. 
> 
> <3

… eh, maybe not? 

Gavin Reed was a stubborn asshole at the best of times. Thinking on it, it’s why he ended up in this shitty argument with Tina in the first place.

Gavin was standing outside in the biting Michigan cold, forcing burning smoke down his lungs. Smoking never tasted good but damn did he feel better doing something with his mouth that could keep him from getting into trouble. Like, y’know, screaming at your closest friend. In Gavin’s case, friend referred to someone who just stuck around long enough and tolerated his shit.

“Tina, I came to you to ask for fuckin’ help, not lecture me like my fuckin’ mom.” Gavin was doing his best to hold back and call her a cunt. He really was. And for Gavin, that was improvement. But to everyone else, it made him seem cold and snippy and short. He was fucking damned if he did and he was fucking damned if he didn’t.

“Gavin, you can’t play around like this is some chia pet. Because it isn’t. It’s a fucking kid, and - and look at you! You can’t even talk to me without doing something self destructive - you think you can take care of a kid, Gavin? A kid isn’t a game. And all the time I’ve known you, you’ve acted like life is a game!” Tina’s arms swung around, trying to emphasize her point. As if somehow, the bigger, she got, the more he would hear.

He lit another cigarette and completely checked out at chia pet.

“First of all, Tina,” his voice was slick with venom, “did anyone ever tell you you’re not my mom? And second of all, you came out here to fuckin’ harass me while I was taking a smoke break. So don’t you act all fuckin’ high and mighty because I choose to smoke. Remember I was the one who pulled you out of a fuckin’ gutter full of puke at your bachelorette party.”

He pulled up his hood against the wind. Even in the alley between the buildings, the wind was chilling. He crushed his half smoked cigarette under his heel, not bothering to meet her eyes. Why bother arguing with someone if they’re already right? And yeah, she was right about those things. But damn if it didn’t sting.

“You think I can’t change, is that it? You think that I like being this way?” Gavin turned his head only to glower from the corner of his eye. After a moment of stunned silence, he felt that he made his point. He started stomped in the snow, leaving his small pile of unsmoked tobacco in the white covered alley. It was a stain on something otherwise perfect. Much like Gavin at work, and at the grocery store, and picking up Violet, and -

No. He couldn't let himself do this. He gritted his teeth, trying to forget the shitty alley he was standing in, arguing with his best friend.

He shouldered past Tina. The only thing on his mind were the adoption fees coming out today, what to make for dinner, and picking his little girl up from school. He starts to the right, to the precinct. And that's when it came out of her mouth - like a hot knife through his heart.

“You’re acting like your fucking father, Gavin. You think you know what you’re doing, but you don’t. You don’t, Gavin.”

Only a few steps from the stairs into the precinct, the detective halted, like she shot him in the back. And in a way, she had. He skidded to a halt over ice. His eyes came over his shoulder - slow. His eyes were colder than the blizzard and as serious as an epidemic.

Tina blanched. He walked to her, pace picking up as he got closer. He grabbed her by her uniform front and held her up against the wall - she waited for it to come to blows.

“I trusted you, Tina. I took a chance on you. I hope you never forget that.” The closer he got to the end of his sentence, he became quieter. The words sunk in as he spat them at her face.

He dropped her on her feet. She could barely hold herself up. Gavin turned immediately and made a left out of the alley. Fuck her. Fuck her and everyone who thought he’d never be shit. 

The pair had fought before. But she’d never done that. Normally, she’d tell him to sit and spin, giving him a raunchy salute. But now? Things were different. Things were changing. Something about that didn’t sit right with him.


	4. Depth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is in shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all. 
> 
> sorry for being so inactive. my life got flipped turned upside down, there was some death, and a whole lotta bullshit. 
> 
> here's a new chapter
> 
> sorry it's late kek

It had been two weeks since his blowout with Tina. She must have told. No one dared to get any closer to him than they had to. And where word spreads about Gavin, Fowler hears about it. Which is probably why he has a meeting with him in about five minutes. Scratch that. Certainly why he was meeting with him in five minutes.

What made it even worse was that Fowler sent a calm and collected e-mail, requesting the meeting. It either means he’s getting fired, or having to go back to workplace assigned therapy sessions. He can't stand them. All therapy felt so insincere. You sit across from someone. They sit across from you. They get paid money to listen to you bitch and moan and whine about all the shit in your life that wasn’t fair. They don’t care.

They couldn’t understand the intricacies of your individual life. Gavin was not super social justice or anything, but he knew there was still privilege associated with being able to get a degree to listen to other people talk about their bullshit. Sure, representation in the workplace and everything. Yet, it was still far from perfect.

He looked down into his steaming cup of coffee, cigarette pinched tightly between his fingers. He liked to think that everyone was blind and ignorant. The dealing with the issue of “androids being human or not” seemed to be a replacement for the issue of race and inequality - like everyone can say “oh shit, yeah, we’ve moved on from the systemic racism enough now that we can talk about whether these beings deserve to live or not.” It’s always the same horseshit.

Somebody always has to be better than someone else. When he was a kid he hoped and dreamed they’d be past all this bullshit. They’d stop climate change. They wouldn’t be racist or sexist or homophobic or anything else.

Gavin learned that the face of injustice may be changing, but it always looms over everything and everyone, no matter how far they come. He coughs on the last of his cigarette, crunches it into the snow with his boot and takes a steadying breath.

He turns back into the precinct, hiding behind his cup of coffee. In making his way over to Fowler’s office, he almost didn’t notice the tall android standing at his desk. He stood stock-still, looking over at him. The android stared back, not saying a word. Gavin opened his mouth as Fowler opened his door, and called for him.

“Reed.”

Gavin looked over at Fowler, and then back at the android. RK900. So Connor could be outdone. Huh. He wanted to scream and yell what the fuck is this? But thought better of it. If he was in deep enough shit to make Fowler speak evenly, it was best he didn’t do anything. So instead, Reed looked at his cup and swallowed the rest of the dark liquid. He threw his cup to the trash can but missed.

“Yikes.” He made that shot every day. But not today. He continued on his way to the termination slip he needed to sign.

Fowler held the door open for him and told him to sit down. The captain only closed it once Reed was in the room.

He sat stiff and rigid in the comfortable chair. Fowler looked confused and tired.

“Word travels, Reed. Did you assault Tina Chen?”

He was so tired, and he couldn’t care anymore about anything. It was no good to lie.

“Yes, sir.”

“You seem exhausted, Reed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you know she isn’t pressing charges?”

“Yes, si - no, what?” His drooping head snapped up, in disbelief. He forgot how to breathe.

“I asked her if she was sure about this. And she told me she was sure, Reed. She told me that she instigated a fight with you, which as you know, doesn’t excuse her behaviour, and it sure as hell doesn’t excuse yours. I will be putting a note in your folder. Do you care to tell me what happened and if I should be putting you on high alert and back into the ATFO program?”

Ugh. Assistive Therapy for Officers. The last thing he wants.

“I don’t want to. But if you’re making me on the basis of needing if for my file, then I guess I’m fucked.” Gavin leans forward onto the desk, perching his elbows there. He pushes his face into his hands and rubs over his eyes, tracing his scar. Then through his hair. He picks up some nerve as he rubs his eyes.

“I told her I wanted to adopt the girl I saved from the fire,” frustration is still evident in his voice. He would rather forget this whole mess than have to explain why he almost ripped her to shreds in the smoker's pit.

“She’s got… she’s got no one. And something stupid in my head told me that I was fit to be a father. And so I made my mind up, I guess. I couldn’t stop looking at her and I… I couldn’t stop seeing me. I couldn’t stop… feeling bad for her. And I saw the shitty path she was going to go down and goddamn if I didn’t think that I couldn’t stop it.”

Gavin pulled his hands from his face. Fowler was listening, leaning back in his chair. He wouldn't rush. It was very like police work; listen and gather evidence first, then prosecute.

“I became an officer ‘cause I wanted to help people and I wanted to make a difference. Pretty naive. Right? And now that I’m older an’ shit I guess I know better. I know that the world will always be unfair. I guess I sorta just accepted that.”

He resigns himself to the tenseness, and rubs his eyes again. So he won’t have to look at his face when he sees Fowler looking at him like he’s stupid.

“And then I pulled her outta that building, an’ she kept clinging on to me. And she started crying when they took her to CPS. An’ I visited her a lot in the past couple weeks. And every single time I see her, I know that I could stop. I could let go, and be done with all this. And then there would just be another kid, broken and feeling useless, lost to our stupid system.” His voice is thick with anger. He could barely speak. Breath in, breath out. Start again.

“I was one of those kids. And even if I could make the slightest fucking difference…" He trailed off. He didn't know how to explain himself.

"I know that I wouldn’t be perfect but I sure as hell would have preferred someone imperfect who cared about me than people who think they can slough me off whenever things get too much, too real for them -”

He had to stop again. The detective was getting too angry. He pulled through his hair, focusing on how greasy it felt. He hadn't been sleeping, so why shower either?

Big breath in. Big breath out. He pulls his hoodie and his jacket closer. A comfort. The android watches them from his desk.

“You could never imagine the shit that happened to me when I was in the system. I can’t let her go through it too. And so I got so mad at Tina. Telling me I was turning into my dad, before he gave us up, me and my brother. He got to go to some rich family, and me? What did I get?” Too much, back off.

“So that’s what happened. She took some personal jabs and set me off.”

Fowler was deciding something because he was silent and staring. 

“This could have cost you your job. You are so unbelievably fucking lucky.” He rubbed his bald head. 

“I’m putting you back on ATFO for twelve weeks, you have desk duty for a week, and you’re getting a partner.” 

Gavin opened his mouth to argue. 

“If I hear any argumentative bullshit from your mouth Reed, it’s sixteen weeks, two weeks of desk work, a level two warning, AND a partner.” 

“No, I… I was just going to say thanks, I guess.” He looked down. God, he was still so young. Fowler turned back to his computer, filing Reed’s things away. 

“You’re a good, attentive officer, Reed. I can’t afford to lose a hard worker like you. Now go on. Paperwork is waiting for you.”

Gavin stood, and bowed out, grateful for his gun, his job, and paperwork.


	5. Your new partner

Gavin hated pity. No, actually, he didn’t. He felt pity for others, even though it was only for a few moments. But then like smoke, all those moments faded and disappeared. And more, as a detective, it was useful for him. He had to be able to read a room, had to be able to read people. People who looked to be pitying others wore a twisted mask of guilt and 

But the stench of pity clings to clothes and hair and skin. It lingers. It’s uncomfortable and everyone has an opinion on the smell. Gavin reeked as he walked back to his desk. He ignored the whispers. He ignored the smell. He tried to. 

He toed around the large hunk of junk standing beside his desk to sit down and prepare his terminal for paperwork. Mounds and mounds of paperwork. Something he could get lost in. Paperwork could be a pain, but there was something about having to focus on the small details that could pull people into a lull, could help people ignore the world around him. Gavin booted up his terminal, started moving his hands through the motions. He started on his punishment, but it didn’t hold his focus. 

In recent years though, paperwork was strictly disciplinary. A formality. Androids could process the paperwork faster than someone could blink. They took in all the details and filed perfectly. It was honestly generous even calling it paperwork. There was no paper left, now. The last paper things he had were photos and books. Many people his age were the same. Everyone converted long ago. It could all be done on the terminals at the desk. No moving needed. There wasn’t even an archive room people could go to anymore. It was the evidence locker. 

Not to be some shitty romantic, but Gavin missed the feel of paper. It was strange. It smelled good and felt soft. People could unplug. In a strange way, paper was imprisoning, but it was also freeing. In 2038, reading a book was anarchy. A physical book. How things change. Gavin had never grown up without a television and a phone. And yet so many people sur - 

“Detective Reed.” An even voice cut through his thoughts, severing his long running fiber of supposition cleanly in two like a heavy knife. It refocuses him on the terminal screen. He hasn’t written anything in an hour. He’s been sitting there, staring straight ahead, pretending to read. He moves, startled. He moves away from the desk and stands. 

A cup of coffee, nice and dark, no sugar, is presented to him. He has to look up to find who the generous soul is that gave it to him. And when he finds the face, he feels like he’s stuck in some sort of sick time loop. He looks up into the face of Connor, but it’s different. It’s not Connor. 

Most immediately, Gavin notices the couple inches of height this new model (is it new? It’s new to Gavin anyways) has over Connor. And the eyes - blue, and not brown. And the collar up to his chin. It makes his face look… bigger. More intimidating. Gavin takes a half step back. 

“Uh, what?” He manages to stutter out a question.  
The android makes no move to do anything, even reach his hand for a handshake.  
“I am RK900, designated Niles. I will be your partner moving forward, since you have been relocated to the android crimes unit. I noticed you didn’t finish your coffee that you threw in the garbage. I brought you another one in hopes that you may feel more relaxed while completing the forms Captain Fowler gave to you.” 

Jesus, this one is just as chatty as the last one. 

“I wasn’t moved to the ACU - wait, what?” He held the coffee in his hands, trying to warm up his slowly frosting fingers. He sat back down. 

“Listen, android, I don’t know if you saw, but I have already had a really shitty day. I am fucking exhasuted, and I… I can’t fucking deal with this right now. I’ve already got so much shit on my plate and - and now you, too.” He nearly spills the coffee as he sets it down on the desk beside his chair. His hands come up to rush through his hair as he looks at the floor. 

“I understand that this partnership is not optimal for you. I will try to make this all as frictionless as possible, Detective.” The android steps into his space, and reaches to the terminal. He files the paperwork for him - and Gavin stops him. Grabs his arm, and pulls it away from the screen. 

“Woah, hey! Fowler will kick my ass if he thinks you’re doing it, dipshit!” He scolded him, trying to drag him away from the desk. He was fucking heavy, dammit! 

The android still stands, bending at the waist. He twists his head to look at the concerned man. 

“I will be sending it in with your signature, and periodically. The timing of your work will not be off. I’m doing this gesture in an act of good faith. You do have a reputation for hating androids, Detective. I ask that you keep your racism to a minimum in my presence.” RK900 turns back to his work, as though he hadn’t said anything at all. 

Gavin backs off. His face twists up in disbelief and… disgust? What the hell was this attitude? He didn’t know what to do. His face burned in shame, and that only made him want to fight back harder. But he couldn’t - and if he did, he could kiss his badge goodbye. 

And being called a racist? Shit. That fucking hurt. As a kid he went to so many rallies and protests against all that shit… and wasn’t that why he got into all this shit? So he could preserve justice? It stung. He wanted to hide and lick his wounds, and never come back. Maybe he wouldn’t be a good dad and shit. 

Maybe he could take his police issue and blow his fucking brains out. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with this shit anymore. No. No. 

He’s going to do good. He’s going to fix the mistakes his shitty horrible fucking sorry excuse of a goddamn father couldn’t, and he is going to fucking pull up his boot straps and say sorry. 

Anxiety nibbled around his edges. He couldn’t do it today. His everything was exhausted. His body, his brain. His everything. 

“Thank you… Niles,” Gavin managed. It wasn’t sorry, but it would have to do for now. He couldn’t detect any facial change from the RK900 unit as he sat there. “I… I’m gonna go talk to Connor and Hank, since I guess we’re all fucking buddy buddy now.” 

 

Talking to those two after weeks of not was a strange feeling. Connor was the first to break the ice, while Anderson stayed quiet. 

“Detective. I see you’re recovered from your injuries.” He gave a polite smile. But there was no feeling behind it. Well, shit, maybe there was some feeling or something, but his synth skin or whatever didn’t crinkle near his eyes like he was actually happy. 

Gavin gave himself a once over like he forgot. He did, sorta. “Oh.”  
Smooth.  
“Thanks for actually caring if I die, I guess.” Hank cocked his brow, looked at Gavin over the top of his display. It was subtle, but he caught it just out of the corner of his eye. “I guess it works out because Fowler has assigned me to your little dream team.” 

Connor was the first to say something again. The tiniest smile flickered in the corners of his mouth. “We would be glad to have you and Niles, Gavin.” Hank turned his eyes back to his work, and only grunted. 

Gavin took that as his cue to leave. So he did. He got back to his desk, and waded through the details of a horrific mutilation. In a way, he was grateful to be off straight homicide. At least there would be some variance in the work he does. Hopefully he won’t have as many nightmares as before. 

Niles interrupted him again. “Detective, it is time for your appointment with Lucy McGuire.” 

“Shit, that’s today? Fuck. I can’t go today.” 

Niles had removed his LED, but kept his jacket. It was hard to guess at what he could possibly be thinking. 

“Yes, that is today. I hope you aren’t thinking of missing out on your therapy, Detective.” 

“Can you cover for me? Please? It’s really important. I have another thing that I have to be at - really.” 

“I have reviewed the footage of that afternoon, Detective and you were traumatised. You need to ensure that you take proper care of yourself if you are to continue working here.” Niles was very firm. His words would not be swayed. 

“Niles, please. It’s… there’s a kid I’m tryin’ to adopt, and it’s her birthday.” Gavin had his coat on, ready to go. He needed to. He couldn’t fuck up. He had to be there for her. No one else would be. 

Niles steeled himself. Closed his eyes. “This conversation didn’t happen.”

Gavin turned and left. 

Niles turned, and watched him leave after a moment, only to have the silence invaded by his predecessor. 

“That was kind of you, Niles.”  
‘Shut up.’


	6. Happy Birthday, Little One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating. some traumatic shit happened.

Gavin signed himself in at the front desk. The secretary - an android - took his details and asked him to wait a moment. She’d be right back out. He and another android were the only ones in the office. The office was sterile. No sign of life, no sign of children. It made him depressed even just being here. He couldn’t imagine how that little girl that would be his was feeling. Lonely? Maybe her room was nicer. 

Orphanages like these were fairly unoccupied. Access to birth control and family planning service had gotten better. But more than that, the climate crisis made people wary of bringing children into this world. Into a world where they were doomed? How cruel. Even Gavin couldn’t abide by that, and… and in his life, he’d been particularly cruel. He looked out the big glass doors. His reflection looked a little scruffy, even though he tried to clean up in the car. Put on a nice, classy sweater. A dad sweater, he thought, anyways. Like the one you’d see a father figure wear at the winter holidays for family photos or gatherings. 

He brushed back his hair, and sighed. There was no use in taming it. 

“Mr Reed? Please follow me.” Gavin turned to her with the things he bought for her. He followed her to the little room of his favourite little girl.   
“Violet? Mr Reed is here to see you.” The android left them alone. He kneeled to her. 

“Heya, Vi. Happy birthday. I brought you some gifts.” He smiled, a bit nervous. She stood up, wearing white and grey. Poor little thing. She must be so… stifled. 

Violet takes a couple of moments to reacquaint herself with him. Her soft hand touches his face. Her hands are so so small. And no matter how much he wants to hug her, he waits. He’s still. Gives her some time. Eventually she curls up against his chest, deciding he’s safe. 

“Fire man... “ Her voice is so small. He sits on the floor, and rocks her back and forth. 

“It’s me. I’m here. You’ll get to come home soon, okay? I just have to do a few more things, then you can come home. You’ll be safe. Okay?” Gavin says “okay” more for himself than for her. He has to do this. Violet stays in his chest, and holds onto that sweater. She rubs her little cheek against it. 

When she moves back, he takes her in fully without panic and confusion and craziness. She’s a beautiful mixed race girl with deep brown eyes, and very kinky hair. 

“Do you wanna open your birthday gifts, Vi?” He holds her face all soft, “I brought them just for you. You might not be home tonight, but… we can do something better when you are home.” He holds out a little cupcake for her, which she gets all over her cheeks and on her nose. Reed can’t help but smile and wipe it away with his thumb, and on his jeans. 

The first gift he gives her, she marvels at it. 

“For… me? Thanks you…” She hugs it. She doesn’t try to open it though. He feels a little lost. Most kids know that they have to open a present to get to the thing inside that they can play with. Unless she doesn’t know because… 

“Hey, what, you’ve never gotten a birthday present before?” He smiles at her. She just looks confused. He helps her open it, trying to keep his dumb toothy grin on his face, so he doesn’t end up crying. He holds her in between his legs, and together, they take apart the wrapping paper bit by bit. The first thing is a soft bunny. Brown and fuzzy… he holds it to her. 

“It’s for you to hug until you can come home, Vi. And look, here’s another one.” She gets the idea, and rips the paper off. It’s a book -  a soft cover edition of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

“It’s for us to read together. I’m going to try to come and see you more often, okay?” 

“O… okay. Thank you, Mr Reed.” He hugs her tightly, and they play together for a while. Eventually, he hears the door creak open, and she looks suddenly shy. She grabs her little bunny closer, and hides against Gavin.

“It’s an android, Mr Reed,” she whispers to him. “Make it go away.” 

Gavin turns around, and in the doorway stands a tall android in black slacks, dress shoes and a nice button up shirt. He doesn’t look pleased. And he’s carrying a gift. Something about the way that he tries to stop his face from pinching and looking sour rubs Gavin the wrong way, deep in his stomach. The disappointment of a father splashes against the walls of his mind, like cold ice being poured over his temples and face. It drips slowly over his back, and consumes him entirely. 

He turns back to the little girl, pulling her away from his chest. He holds her cheek softly, and swallows his pride whole. 

“Vi, it’s okay. He’s a person. Androids are more than just androids, they’re… people. I made some mistakes. I was an angry person. When I was angry, I said and did some mean things. I was… I was mean to them just because they were androids. And that isn’t okay. They’re just like you and me. They just work a little bit differently than us on the insides.” He pokes her chest where her heart would be, to emphasize. He smiles. “I promise. Now say hello to my partner. We work together.” 

He scoops her up with the little bunny, and turns to Niles, who looks like he’s thinking about something. He smiles, tight, but polite.   
“Violet, this is Niles. Say hello to him?” Violet looks like she’s thinking. She looks him up and down and thinks about him. Niles looks nervous, and tries to speak. Gavin holds out a hand, stopping him. The look in his eyes is begging him to give her another second - she’s learning and trying. 

“H… hello, Mr Niles.” She hides closer to Gavin after she says it. Gavin looks so relieved. His arms cuddle her closer, and she giggles and smiles. “Itchy face!” 

Niles clears his throat. It draws their attention. 

“I have a gift for you, Violet. I understand that it’s your birthday.” He holds it out to her, and she rips it apart with reckless abandon. His gift to her is pencils and crayons and paper. She looks so happy, and starts drawing pretty much immediately. She runs around, playing and screaming and laughing from all the sugar. Gavin watches on, wishing that he had that much energy. After a long time of playing with her, Niles leaves the room, to give the two a minute to wind down and get into bed. 

“Mr Reed… could Mr Niles read my book to me please?” Niles, in the hall, would blush if he could. He was wanted. 

“Niles? You heard. Come read with me?” Niles, with uncertain steps, makes his way into the room. Gavin pats the bed next to him, and hands him the book. 

Niles clears his throat not because he needs to, but because he wants to emulate human mannerisms. As he reads, he holds the book there because he wants to, not because he needs to. He could recite the book from his own database, but there is a certain novelty in reading the words off of a page, in the complex scent profile of an old book. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive..” Gavin watched, voice trailing off, as little Violet stared up at his partner, holding her soft bunny. Her eyelids droop over her eyes, and she falls asleep. Her soft snores and Niles’ bassy voice fills the room, until he slowly quiets, and fades out. He makes a mental bookmark, and closes the book, resting it on the side table next to the small bed. Gavin tidies up the cupcake container, the wrapping paper, and hangs her drawings on the white walls. He writes a small note in her book, saying he’ll call her tomorrow. 

Gavin slings his jacket over his arm, ushering Niles out. He stays back a moment, flicking on a small nightlight. He says goodnight to the quiet room, and closes the door behind himself. He bumps into Niles, and says sorry. They’re in the hallway alone. Save for the security cameras. They were everywhere, and they were always watching. 

“She’s so small. And I can’t… I don’t want her to feel hurt. I want her to be so happy. And I want to do it. I want to make her happy.” There’s a pause where Niles can hear him swallow back sobs. His voice returns, quieter. “I need to get outta here. Do you need a ride home?” 

Niles doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t expect any of this. He didn’t expect a hurting man underneath all the brash and violent exterior. But here he stood. A man reduced to tears by the confusion of a child and the kindness of a man who deserves to hate him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first work. 
> 
> I hope you stay to find out what happens in this story with me. 
> 
> Until next time.
> 
> Edit: Comments and suggestions are welcomed! I'm still learning to write, so please don't hesitate to try and help. 
> 
> xo


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